


Even With Your Flaws

by thesicksystem



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Anger, Angst, Angst and Feels, Choking, Death Threats, F/M, First Love, Force Choking, Heavy Angst, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, No Fluff, Not a Love Story, OCs - Freeform, Physical Abuse, Sad, Threats of Violence, Violence, idk how i wrote this like i wasnt even in a bad mood what, only angst, theres no good love here sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 08:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14808096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesicksystem/pseuds/thesicksystem
Summary: A graphic depiction of an abusive relationship.





	Even With Your Flaws

    I love Bennet, even with all of his flaws. Even if he stares at me with pure  _ want _ ; no,  _ need _ . Even if when we change before bed he watches me like a predator stalking his prey. I don’t mind. I don’t mind because Bennet is a good person, I know it. I rarely feel comfortable around him, but when I do it’s the safest feeling in the world. That’s why I need him. These thoughts are swishing around in my brain like a candlelit bath, warm and welcoming.

    “Do you love me?” Bennet suddenly asks, his legs rubbing against mine. The bedsheets crinkle between our intertwined bodies as he twirls strands of my chocolate brown hair around his finger. My brows furrow at his sudden question because the answer is obvious.

    “More than anything.” I whisper wistfully and trace little shapes onto his strong arm which is laced around my chest like a ribbon wrapped around a present.

    He pauses for a moment, seemingly satisfied with my answer, before adding, “Do you hate me?” A feeling of dread covers me from head to toe and I bite my lip nervously. I think I know what’s coming next.

    “No, I don’t.” I murmur tentatively, awaiting his next words with bated breath. I feel his grip on my hair tighten until he has a wad of it grasped in his fist.

    “Say it. Say that you hate me.” He demands, yanking on my hair painfully which forces a little yelp from me.

    “I can’t lie, Ben.” I offer with a sad smile, and it only makes him pull harder. Tears blot my vision and cling to my eyelashes like a lifeline. 

    “I want you to say it.” Bennet forcefully tugs at my hair before suddenly letting go. He then moves quickly so that he’s hovering over me, his knees biting into my hips. His face is so close to mine, and I can feel his hot breath blowing against my lips. I take a deep breath and my lips set into a straight line.

    “No.” I speak with defiance and confidence, but fear is hitting me with the force of a freight train. My heart is pounding so loudly in my ears that I almost don’t catch his next words.

    “I’ll hurt you.” He states calmly and I feel his large hands slither up my neck and begin to squeeze. “You know I will.” He adds threateningly.

    “I don’t hate you.” I let out weakly and feel his grip tighten as soon as the words leave my mouth. I grip at the sleeves of his shirt desperately, silently pleading with him to stop. Of course he doesn’t. He forgets how to stop when he gets in this authoritative mood. But I’m certain he would never go so far that there was no going back. He could never kill me, and I’d always be able to stop him before it got to that point. I try to cry out for him to stop, but all that comes out is a painful wheeze. It feels like when you’re underwater and you accidentally breathe in, and after that your body opens up your lungs to try and try and try to breath. But you can’t. I’m starving for air now, and uncontrollable gasps and rasps escape me.  _ Please.  _ I word silently and I know he’s noticed, but he continues regardless. My fingertips are becoming numb at this point, and in a desperate attempt to get him to stop I begin pounding my fists against his chest. Over and over and over again I hit him as hard as I can, but he remains undeterred. The tingling sensation rushes up my arms and into my chest, shortly followed by numbness. Once my arms go limp and all I can do is stare at his stoic face, I begin to wonder if this is where his last string of sanity snaps. Will his grip like a vice on my throat be the last thing I ever feel? Have I been too cocky and provoked him one too many times? His hands abruptly stop squeezing, but still remain on my throat as a silent warning that he can continue.

    “Do you hate me?” He asks but it comes out more like a threatening statement. My eyes are red and puffy from tears and pressure, but I try my hardest to not let them slide closed despite their begging. I gasp for air greedily, even though it feels like my lungs have completely abandoned air and are rejecting it. Once I’ve had a moment of silence save for my ragged and hoarse breaths, I look him in the eyes with a half-moon smile.

    “I love you Bennet.” I sigh confidently because I’m sure now that he would never kill me. Confusion flashes across his face, twisting his well sculpted features harshly. 

    “I could kill you right now.” He states matter of factly, his calm expression returning like it had never left. “I kind of want to.” He sighs and leans his forehead against mine. I’m beginning to think it wouldn’t be too bad to die by his hand. It really would be brilliant in the most ugly yet somehow most beautiful way.

    “I love you.” I prop my head up slightly to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. My lips are almost too numb to feel his skin against mine, but I can feel my nerves coming back to life ever so slowly.

    “I don’t know if you’ve got a death wish or if you’re just plain stupid.” He says coldly despite the flicker of longing in his seafoam eyes. He heaves himself off of me with that, then wraps his arms around me as if we were a picture perfect loving couple. It’s surprising how much you can adore someone who tries to kill you almost every night. We say nothing more and I’m relieved to quickly fall into the comforting warmth of sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning I wake up with a throbbing head, and I quickly make my way over to the mirror with bandages in my hand. My throat is an artist’s palette of browns, yellows, and purples and my eyes are as red as the nail polish coating my fingernails. My hair is untamable where Bennet had yanked on it repeatedly, and I could see last night was still very evident on my body. I would have to change that before going out to work. The most depressing thing to look at in the mirror each day while patching myself up is always my hazel eyes. They look unfathomably lifeless and hopeless, a pair of worn 60 year old eyes where there should be young and vibrant 20 year old eyes. I watch in the mirror as I apply bandages to the spots where Bennet’s nails dug into my skin. I can see the reflection of him lying in our little bed, the blanket wrapped around him like a burrito, drool making a path down his chin. The way his obsidian black hair looks like he’s just been out in a tornado, the way the sun’s warm tones sprawl across his body and light up his face beautifully.

 

I know I’ll always love Bennet, even with all of his flaws.

**Author's Note:**

> I was in a good mood when I wrote this and then I finished it and read it over and it literally made me sad so enjoy a healthy dose of depression


End file.
